Alana Candler, Marked for Murder (35 page)

The regret in Bo’s voice nearly did her in. “I’m sorry about that, Alana. I hated giving Gene that order—Brad being my best friend and all. But . . . it wasn’t personal—just business.”

Alana was horrified. Bo had wanted her dead all along! Nothing personal? Just business? Tremors raced through her body, and she collapsed to her knees—her legs too weak to hold her up.

Jaydn struggled to take Bo’s mind off Alana.

“What about Chet’s neighbor, Gene Hollister? Did you murder him too?”

“It was a shame about Gene. He was a good security man. He knew everything there was to know about disarming a security system. He got careless, though. He had to be punished. Now, get those cuffs on—you’re stalling.” He raised the gun once more toward Alana’s head.

Jaydn had no other choice but to place the cuffs on Kent’s hands.

“You’re crazy, man, if you think your
friends
are going to bring that money back here. What makes you think they won’t skip out and leave you with a kidnapping charge and the blame for all those murders?”

Bo’s laugh filled the metal rafters—his voice laced with sarcasm. “I’ve already told my
friends
that if they leave me here, I have evidence to prove they committed all the murders. I’ll just turn it all over to the police and pretend I found you
after
they murdered you. Who do you think they’ll believe? Me—one of Landeville’s finest—or the story of some lowlife scum? Besides, I have a flight chartered with only one ticket . . . and a bomb planted somewhere my
friends
will never find. After they bring me the money, they’ll all get into the car to travel to the airport, and—
kaboom
! The beginning of my retirement.”

Alana opened her mouth in a silent scream. Bo was mad!

“Enough talking. Get those cuffs on, or little Alana’s gonna have a mighty big headache.”

Bo moved to the right to watch Jaydn’s hands and stepped directly in front of where Brad was crouched.

Brad leaped from behind the container and pounced on Bo, sending them both to the floor. Kent twisted to help Brad as much as he could with his hands in cuffs, and Jaydn grabbed Bo’s hand—trying to pull the gun from Bo’s death grip.

Bo pulled himself back up, raised his left leg, and jabbed Jaydn in the stomach—knocking Jaydn to the floor. Jaydn hit his head on a wooden container and shook his head, dazed.

“Run, Alana!” Brad yelled at her as he hit Bo with the back of his elbow. Bo jerked around, and the blow caught him in the back, but he kept his footing.

Alana was frozen. The whole thing seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Through the struggle, Bo’s eyes, crazed with rage, turned to find Alana’s. Adrenaline surged through his veins, and with superhuman strength, he raised both hands, lifting Brad and Kent off the ground, and turned the gun toward Alana.

Jaydn didn’t hesitate. He threw his body between Alana and the gun.

Alana saw the flare from the gun and heard the explosion. At the same instant, she saw Jaydn’s body flash in front of her. Her soul felt rather than saw the impact. In slow motion, she saw Jaydn crumple to the floor

“Jaydn!”

A second shot rang out. Alana felt the shock from a second bullet as it hit her in the shoulder.

She watched as Bo—still wrestling Brad and Kent—summoned one last ounce of strength and turned the gun on himself. Alana felt the shot all the way to her soul and turned her head to avoid seeing Bo fall to the ground. She heard the gun fall to the floor a few feet away.

Alana winced from the pain in her arm, but knelt beside Jaydn. She could see blood already spreading from the wound in his chest. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she tenderly lifted his head and held it off the blackened wooden floor.

In the background, she could hear sirens blaring in the distance and her brother shouting, “Dispatch! We have shots fired and a man down. Ten-fifty-two! Immediately! I repeat. We have a man down!”

SEVENTY-FOUR

ALANA SAT UP IN THE
hospital bed as Brad walked into the room.

“Hey, munchkin. How are you feeling this morning?”

Even though Brad tried to portray a positive face, the dark circles under his eyes revealed how rough the last couple of days had been. Losing a best friend was hard, but finding out he’d murdered so many people out of greed was devastating. Bo had been a family friend for a long time. It was shocking to find out how cold and deadly he had become.

“I’m okay, Brad. I still have a headache, but my vision has returned completely. I’m very thankful.”

“How’s the arm?”

Alana glanced at her shoulder. The wound, grazed by Bo’s bullet, was wrapped in tight bandages and protected by a sling—painful, but it would heal.

“Much better. Just a little sore.”

The events of the past week circled around in her head like a merry-go-round. Most of the shocking puzzle now made sense, but there were still pieces missing—such as why Chet was murdered. She looked at Brad and asked the question she dreaded the most. “Brad, did you find out who killed Chet?”

He nodded slowly. “Chet’s next door neighbor, Gene Hollister. Charlie Suarez, one of Bo’s men, confirmed that Gene’s the one who pulled the trigger, but Bo ordered it. Hollister shot Chet, and then Bo killed him. We found his body in Lake Morgan several days later. He was shot with the same gun that Bo used to shoot you and Jaydn.”

“That means Bo shot Gene himself, doesn’t it?”

Brad took a deep breath and sat down in the chair beside her bed. “Yeah. The hotel manager, also one of Bo’s men, confirmed it. He’s singing his head off, hoping he’ll get a lighter sentence. He said Chet followed Gene to the warehouse, and one of Gene’s men recognized him. They followed him home, and Gene killed him—after he forced him to sign the suicide note. Chet might have been foolhardy and obnoxious, but he didn’t deserve to die.”

“What about the ring Kent was wearing? Jaydn said he saw a picture of the same ring in the group of stolen items from the robberies.”

“Chet must have picked it up at the warehouse. My guess is . . . he planned to produce the ring to prove his suspicions. He’d been warned about jumping to conclusions. He’d been warned about a lot of things . . .”

Alana remembered the look of compassion on Chet’s face after her kidnapping. “Poor Chet.”

Silence filled the room. Alana shifted position uncomfortably.

“Are Evan and Sam okay?”

“Yeah, just a little embarrassed. The security guards had no way of knowing they were being lured away from the island by the ruckus Bo’s men created across the lake as a distraction. When they left to check it out, Bo’s men tied Evan and Sam up in the basement. My men found them about an hour later—a little sore, but okay.”

“I’m glad they weren’t hurt. How’s Jaydn?”

“He’s fine, Alana. The surgery to remove the bullet was a success, so now it’s just a matter of time. He’ll be as good as new before you know it.”

“He still doesn’t want to see me?” Sorrow bled into her question.

“Not yet, Alana. I think he’s still distressed about the way you reacted to his being a
rich tyrant
.”

Alana squeezed her eyes shut. “I shouldn’t have called him that—even if he didn’t tell me the truth.”

“I know he wanted to tell you. He was scared you’d overreact. He cares for you, Alana. You two seem like you were made for each other. You need to forgive him.”

Silence was his answer.

“I have one more thing to say, and then I need to get back to work. The Bible doesn’t say money is the root of all evil, in spite of what you might think. It says the
love
of money is the root of all evil. Bo showed us all what that looks like. But, Jaydn’s different. Think about that, Alana.”

He stood up and leaned over the bed, dropping a kiss on Alana’s forehead.

“I have to get back to work, munchkin. The doc says you can go home tomorrow. Lisa and I will be here bright and early to pick you up.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Thanks, Brad. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Alana gingerly leaned back on the hospital pillow. She wanted to force her way into Jaydn’s hospital room to see for herself if he was truly okay, but embarrassment stopped her. She’d rejected him. In the worst way possible, she’d pushed him away and called him horrible names. She couldn’t get the hurt look on his face out of her mind when she’d told him she didn’t want to see him again.

All because of money.

The concern she felt about his lack of faith in God—that burden had been removed. But, the fact he was an important company owner with money at his disposal to force his ways on others gave her reason to halt their relationship. So many unwanted consequences piled up when money was involved.

Tom, the man she thought she cared for deeply, lived a lie in front of her until it was almost too late. He had harbored a carload of baggage that revolved around money. He hid his true self until he became so overbearing that he was impossible to be around. He was autocratic, self-serving, stingy, and obsessed with the need to make even more money
.

But . . . Jaydn was none of those things.
The truth shouted at her. Deep inside her heart, she wanted to believe Jaydn was different—after all, the man kept saving her life—but fear wrapped itself around her heart and wouldn’t let go.

Alana stared at the room full of flowers sent by her friends. She touched a white carnation her neighbor, Cynthia Beal, sent the day before. They reminded her of the white azaleas growing near Jaydn’s boathouse. Her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach, the way it always did when she thought of Jaydn.

Lord, please show me what to do. I care for him deeply, but I’m afraid to trust him. Please take away the fear.

SEVENTY-FIVE

JAYDN CAREFULLY SCOOTED UP IN
bed in order to reach the TV remote. Patricia left the television blaring when she huffed out of the room. She came to his hospital room in order to inform him dramatically that she’d found someone else. When Jaydn didn’t seem to mind, she told him, with a lot of sighing and deep breathy apologies, that they were obviously not meant for each other. She was sorry, she claimed, but she’d found someone who better understood her.

Someone who would cater to her beauty and celebrity status, no doubt. Jaydn shrugged inwardly and pushed the “off” button. It didn’t matter. They weren’t suited for each other. There was only one woman who could see into his soul, and she wanted nothing to do with him.

It wasn’t just because of his money—it was because he hadn’t been entirely honest with her.

He knew she’d tried to visit his hospital room, but he’d made it clear to the hospital staff that he didn’t want to see anyone—especially not the beautiful blonde from the room upstairs. He was not up to a scene regarding his mistakes—not when he’d apologized already.

The harsh words she’d flung at him still stung. The baggage she carried around from the past killed their chance for happiness—unless she forgave him completely and took him as he was.

Lord, help her realize money can be a gift from You and not always a curse. Please help me move on if it’s not Your will that we be together.

SEVENTY-SIX

YOO-HOO! ALANA, ARE YOU
still here, honey?”

Shirley popped through the hospital room door and brightened up the whole room with her smile.

Alana’s eyes lit up in answer to the infectious grin. “Shirley! Oh, it’s so good to see you. Thanks for all the phone calls and prayers.”

Shirley bounced over to Alana and took both hands in hers. She lowered herself gently on the bed with a satisfied sigh and gave Alana a kiss on the cheek.

“How are you feeling, sweetie?”

That question was hard for Alana to answer. Physically she was healing, but emotionally, she missed Jaydn. How could she explain her reluctance to form a relationship with the type of man who had saved her life more than once in the last week, a man who otherwise bore a strong resemblance to the type of man she swore never again to get involved with?

Her hesitation made Shirley jump to the wrong conclusion. She leaned around Alana and gave her a one-arm hug, avoiding the sling.

“I have some news for you that will make you feel better instantly.”

Alana waited, amazed by Shirley’s controlled excitement.

“The owner of our building sent his lawyer by this morning, and he brought the deed to the orphanage property.”

Alana sat puzzled, unaware of the significance of that news.

“Alana, on the deed, the title of ownership has been changed to . . .” Shirley paused for effect, “Darrell and me.”

Alana’s jaw dropped. “I don’t understand, Shirley. What did you say? The deed is in
your
name now?”

Shirley could hardly speak for giggling. “For some reason, our landlord had his lawyer deed the entire block—the building, and all the surrounding land—to us. It’s ours now. He even donated enough money to add that playground we’ve always wanted! Isn’t it wonderful?”